Slipping Deeper
by AlmostAngel.333
Summary: Cammie misses Zach. She thinks about him constantly, dreams about him, yearns for him. What'll happen if he comes back? What'll happen if they get assigned a mission with their friends?
1. Chapter 1

**Hi! My name is Paris, and this is my first fanfic. It'll be Zach/Cammie. It's rated T because I'm paranoid.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own these characters (though it'd be nice), nor do I profit from this(that's be nicer).**

**_Chapter 1_**

I sighed, looking at, but not really studying, my notes on Cove Ops. The rain was pounding on the skylight of the library, the thunder grumbling dismally in the distant, making rythmic, hypnotizing sounds, and causing a peaceful, if dark, atmosphere.

I was daydreaming (again) about Zach. I kept replaying the scene in my head- Zach, dipping and kissing me, Zach, boarding a helicopter, Zach, leaving to return to Blackthorne Institute for Boys, never to be seen again. That was Sophmore year, Sublevel 1 (also known as year of the boyfriend/disaster.) This was Junior year, Sublevel 2. I'd tried, plenty of times, to forget that Zach was the first boy to _really _understand me, the first to know the side of me that I'd never been able to show Josh. But I was never able to.

I was jerked out of my daydream when the oak doors to the library were slammed open, crushing the silence.

"Cammie!" an unmistakable British voice yelled. I turned towards Bex, only to narrowly avoid being flipped out of my chair as she tried to yank me, none to gently, off of it.

"C'mon, hurry!" She exclaimed impatiently, pulling my arm.

"What?" I asked, allowing myself to be pulled up.

"I'll explain on the way!" She was now dragging me down the hall. Now, I could've demonstrated 150 ways to get out of her grasp with Kung Fu moves, and 117.2 ways in the ancient art of Hanebdesas (no, don't try to pronounce that), and pinned her down and forced her to explain what was going on. But I knew that she knew 300 ways to fight me and force me to where ever she was taking me, 137 of which involved ducktape and/or purple fuzzy slippers. I also knew that she wouldn't hesitate to use any of them (except maybe 3).

She was pulling me along the confusing assortment of corridors in the Gallahger Academy, mumbling under her breath.

"What's the quickest route to the room above Mr. Solomon's office?" she demanded.

I thought about it for exactly 4.2 seconds before answering, "The passage behind the tapestry of Gillian with the president. Now tell me where we're going!"

She started for the tapestry, hastily explaining," Okay, you know how Liz bugged the secret passages around your mom and Mr. Solomon's offices so we wouldn't have any more surprises, like Blackthorne? Well....you'll see when we get there."

I sighed exasperatedly, brushing my hair out of my face."Fine. But you know, I _can _walk by myself, Bex."

"Whoops." She let go of my arm and started searching for the brick that would open the passage. "Gah, where is it?!?!!" She was obviously losing patience.

"Right here." I stepped on the brick, and there was a loud grumbling sound as the door slid open.

"Finally!" She exclaimed, dashing through before it was open all the way. I followed her to the room, sprinting next to her because, let's face it, I was super curious.

We suddenly stumbled into a dimly lit, tiny room, where I almost tripped over Liz and Macy, who were laying stomach down looking through the floor slats, made for peeking. Spy training or not, I almost yelped, but Bex clapped a hand over my mouth. She let go and put here finger to her mouth, laying next to Liz, who gestured for me to do the same.

"Listen," she whispered, excitement seeping into the word. I layed down and pressed my ear to the floor. I was geeted by the distinct sound of Mom and Mr. Solomon's voices.

"Joe, do you think they know?"

"...can't tell...if one...all would..."

"True....but I can't..."

We could only catch bits and pieces, but Mr. Solomon's next words came loud and clear, words I might never forget.

"So it's settled. The Blackthorne boys are coming back."

**--¤--**

**I hope y'all like it so far! Please reply! I'd love to here what you think! No Flames please!**

**-- Paris**


	2. The Real Chapter 2

I swear I'd stopped breathing. I didn't dare believe what I thought I'd heard. But when I turned my gaze, which had been directed in disbelief at the top of Mr. Solomon's thick-haired head, to meet the others', it

was confirmed. Their ecstatically shocked expressions assured me that it was true: the boys were back in town (as Thin Lizzy sang so well. Though I doubt they thought it'd be used for boys like these).

I felt a rush of adrenaline-laced happiness surge through my body. Okay, okay, yes, I'll admit I'd bee

n a teeny tiny bit. . . .obsessed. But, in my defense, he _**was **_the first guy to _**really**_ understand me. And it's not

like I was the only one who was in lo- erm,_ obsessing_ with a Blackthorne. At least I hadn't hacked into the government database to try and find out what they looked like shirtless (yes, Bex). So there.

Okay, we're spies, right? And we're always supposed to be watchful,

and stealthy, and. . . . well, _spy-like_, right? Wrong. Well, we are _supposed_ to be. But there was one weakness that came from going to an all girl

school—boys. And the aspect of boys weakened our defenses, so to I guess that's why Liz forgot about the old floor boards.

Whatever the reason (though I suspect it had something to do with Jonas), she jumped up and landed hard on her feet. Too hard. The next thing I knew, there was a horrible cracking sound, and I was falling. The

shrieks, crashes, and curses in Farsi (one of which I'm pretty sure came from me) happened in about 0.2 seconds. Then I landed with an audible _**THUD **_on something, and then something landed with a loud thud

on _me. _And then there was a short lived silence broken by Liz's distinctive,

"Oopsy Daisy."

I groaned, trying to free my arm from the wreckage enough to put a hand to my head. I was on my back, almost completely buried by lodes of sheetrock, boards, and nails (note to self: do NOT jump on rotting

boards!). Then some of the weight shifted as something above me shifted. My eyes, which I'd shut tight on the way down, fluttered open. Then I wished I'd left them closed, because I suddenly realized what

exactly had softened my landing, and what, or rather, who, had curled instinctively over me to protect me from falling debris.

I was staring into the unreadable eyes of Mr. Joe Henry Solomon.

**Sorry, it's not very long. Again. I'll try and make the next one longer!**

**¤Paris  
**


	3. Author's Note

_**AUTHOR'S NOTE**_

So sorry about that last chapter! It took me a while to figure out how to post a second chapter *blushes*, and then there was a glitch. But I figured it out thanks to Kelsey Alice Rosalie Cullen! Thanks! And thanks for all the awesome replies! I'm glad y'all like it! So the real chapter two is up. And . . . . I think that's it. Okay! Bye bye!

¤Paris


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